


A Lie in the Dark

by MightySSStrawberry



Series: Devil May Cry: Gates of Paradise [4]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Child Nero (Devil May Cry), Comfort, Cruelty, Crying, Dark, Defiant Nero (Devil May Cry), Demonic Vergil (Devil May Cry), Disapproving Family, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fear, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Intense, Kissing, Love, Loving Marriage, Mild Sexual Content, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Nightmares, Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Poor Nero (Devil May Cry), Post-Devil May Cry 3, Precious Nero (Devil May Cry), Promises, Protective Nero (Devil May Cry), Protective Vergil (Devil May Cry), Protectiveness, Psychological Horror, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soft Vergil (Devil May Cry), Violence, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightySSStrawberry/pseuds/MightySSStrawberry
Summary: It's Halloween, the time when nightmares take full reign, and Nero's mother, Miranda, has been suppressing a deep-rooted fear in efforts to remain strong for Vergil and Nero, her beloved family.  Tonight, it haunts her worse than ever before, and her fear manifests too viscerally in her dreams... 😱😭Recommended for 18+ for violence, some strong language and brief sexual content
Relationships: Nero & Nero's Mother (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Devil May Cry: Gates of Paradise [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939600
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	A Lie in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> About a month or so ago I was really struggling with some heavy feelings, and this vignette came alive out of that dark time. I channeled and processed the thoughts and emotions into an intense addition to _Gates of Paradise_. The beginning was so painful to write 💔 but the end is precious 💙❤️💙

Dark rain poured down.  


Dark blood poured out.  


Dishonored father.  


Forgotten wife.  


Nero gasped. Retched. Fighting to breathe. Shattered sword. Bent and swaying on his knees, he took up the double-barreled gun. Too heavy. Cough. Blood smacked asphalt. Hand shaking.  


“Pathetic.”  


A blast of cobalt light.  


Fallen gun. Clatter. Useless.  


Nero gritted his teeth. “You bastard!”  


Eight swords of deadly demon light. Poised for release.  


“You are not my son.”  


Vergil stepped forth through shadows and midnight. Bathed in the azure glow of his undefeated power. Hair, white fire. Eyes, embers. Heart, withered fruit.  


Humid night. Breath of howling devils. Chasing sweat down Nero’s bare back. Licking old scars. Burning anew.  


Fingernails bit into the ground. “If I shame you so much, then why don’t you just kill me already?”  


The tip of the Yamato slid under Nero’s chin, lifting it. Nero met his father’s ruthless gaze. Tears fell in silence. Anger and confusion bred hot hatred. Churning. Ripening. Burning blue eyes.  


“You are weak.” With the Yamato’s immortal edge, Vergil opened a narrow slit in Nero’s throat. “Worthless.”  


Nero’s lip curled. Teeth bared. Panting. “Don’t. Fuck. With. Me—!”  


Phantom blades. Pierced flesh. Broken body.  


Nero refused to scream. Torment. Loathing. Soul consumed.  


“You can’t kill me.” Nero huffed. Gathering rage. “Know why?”  


He clamped his feeble human hand around the end of the Yamato and yanked the blade out. For sixteen years he had struggled to please his demon father. Struggled and failed. Blood dripped to the ground, his hand sliced to the bone.  


Phantom glass. Belligerent burst. “Because I won’t die for your shit standard—!”  


“Vergil, no!” Scream of love.  


“Mom, get back!” Protective son.  


The Yamato wailed. The cry of a conflicted mind.  


No mercy in a hurricane.  


“Shameful.” Hell struck.  


Nero screamed.  


“Nero!” Mangled maternity.  


Dark blood like Styx unleashed.  


Nero hunched over, bracing himself. One hand. Limb lost.  


Vergil twirled the Yamato, flicking blood of kin across the earth. Scarlet arc. “You are a disgrace to your lineage.”  


Nero spat a gob of blood onto his father’s boot. “Go to hell,” he growled, “and don’t fucking come back!”  


Vergil sheathed the Yamato in a mesmerizing flourish. “Foolish boy.” He cracked the scabbard across Nero’s jaw.  


Slammed to asphalt. Groaning.  


“Vergil, stop!” Tortured.  


“Mom…” Nero weakly warned. Slack jaw. Limp tongue. “Don’t…”  


Miranda rushed into the darkness and threw herself over her bleeding boy. Sobbing.  


Vergil sneered. Disgusted. “The boy is a mistake.”  


“Nero!” A mother’s pain unchained. Miranda ran her trembling hand through Nero’s bloodstained hair. “I’m here, my little sweet.”  


“Miranda!” Vergil bellowed, poised for the ending blow. “Stand aside!”  


“This is my baby!” she screamed. Tears and rain. Blood and pain. “You will not kill my baby!”  


“Mom…” A feeble whisper. Too many wounds. Coming darkness.  


Vergil stormed toward them. Demon wings of black intent. Obsession. Blazing eyes of cold revenge. Possession.  


Miranda turned away and huddled over her son. His shield from alpha to omega. Final kiss. Bloody brow.  


“Mom…” He touched her hand. “Go…”  


Power. Pressure. A cold, dark sphere. Judgment.  


“No, baby.” Loving whisper anguish borne. “I’m not leaving you.”  


Closing eyes. Embraced. Waiting.  


The agony of a thousand cutting deaths—

***

Only half awake. Panting deep and fast. Mind beaten and abused. Stricken. Horrified.  


“Miranda!”  


“Vergil, no!” she screamed, flailing. “Stop!” The clinging threads of her nightmare lingered in the humid island night. Sweat dappled her face.  


“Miranda, wake up!” Vergil pleaded.  


Still she struggled in strangling fear. Fallen shroud of false loss.  


“Miranda.” He took her face in gentle hands. “Open your eyes.”  


Frightened eyes, wide and weary. “Nero!” Sharp outcry. Small. Piercing. Tears poured down.  


“Nero’s safe.” Vergil stroked her cheek.  


She stared up at him, unable to breathe. Moonlight on messy white hair. Troubled gaze. Loyal blue eyes.  


Vergil swallowed. Knotted stomach. “You dreamt of me.”  


She nodded. Scraping bits of broken breath. “You tried to kill Nero.”  


Throat closed. “I would never do that, Miranda.” Heart clenched. “I love our boy.”  


“I know, but…!” Sobbing. “I felt the blood in his hair! He trembled in my arms!”  


Silence and sorrow.  


Vergil bent closer to kiss her, but she rejected him. A jagged blade twisted through his chest.  


“He was much older.” Hazy. Shaken. “You said he was worthless. A mistake!”  


Vergil took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “Miranda, he is not a mistake.”  


Closing her eyes, she focused on the wild pounding beneath her palm. Warmth. Power. Love.  


Grief. “Oh, my sweet V!” Relief.  


Lips embraced. Vergil caressed her. Sacred skin. Oath of passion. Vow of refuge. A battle to breathe. Resolve. Gentle lips. Rising breasts. Fingers raking hair. A desire to forget. A need to drown. Kisses unrelenting. Ardent purpose.  


He wrapped her leg around his hip. Thrust.  


Gasp. Nervous.  


Fervor jarred.  


“I can’t, Vergil.” Unable to give. “I’m sorry.”  


“It’s all right.” Whispering kiss. “I only want to comfort you.”  


Alone together. Cleansing moonlight. Vergil wiped her tears away. Miranda slid her arms around his neck. Pulling down. Feeling power.  


Clinging. “Hold me, Vergil, just hold me!” Weeping.  


Close. Safe.  


“I’m always afraid.” Fragile confession. “Every day!”  


“I promised you I would never leave you again.” Vergil stroked her hair. “Never again.”  


“No.” Quivering lips to his ear. Like a devastating secret. “I’m afraid I’ll lose you. Lose Nero.”  


A kiss, long and ocean-deep. “I will never let the Order take our son.”  


Fear consumed. “I already lost you both once!”  


Fierce eyes. Fiery motivation. “For now, tonight, they cannot touch us.”  


Miranda clung to Vergil. Unabated tears.  


“Mommy?”  


Nero, still four years old, stood in the shadowed doorway.  


“My little sweet!” Joyful mother.  


Nero climbed up onto the bed and hugged his arms around her neck. “Please don’t cry, Mommy.”  


“My precious boy,” she whimpered, pressing him to her breast.  


Young worry. “Daddy, why is Mommy crying?”  


Vergil ran a hand over his son’s hair. “Mommy had a nightmare.”  


Nero looked into his mother’s eyes. “Don’t be scared, Mommy. Me and Daddy will protect you!” Bright blue eyes looked to Vergil.  


“Yes we will.” Comforting caress.  


She sniffed, and hugged her baby close. “Thank you, Nero.” She squeezed Vergil’s hand tight.  


Vergil gathered them both into his arms and summoned a wall of protective blades around the bed. Slow and reassuring, he kissed Miranda, tasting the salt of her fear.  


“I love you.” Everlasting.  


Smiling wife. “And I love you. My sweet V.”  


Together they all three cuddled beneath the blankets and fell asleep in the azure light of Vergil’s power.  


Miranda woke again when the dawn nudged her out of darkness. Nero was snuggled up beside her, snoring softly, his mouth open. Sighing, she stroked his hair, holding him, his warmth a beloved reassurance.  


The final vestiges of her nightmare faded.  


The wall of glowing blue swords endured, tall and steadfast.  


Vergil stood at the window. A stern, ruminating expression was fixed upon his tired face. The Yamato ready in his hand. Guardian.  


“Vergil, did you sleep?” Quiet concern.  


He turned, his face shedding his somber mask, and came to her. Overwhelming beauty. Fierce devotion. Waking desire. Ashes to flame. She clutched the collar of his coat and pulled him down. The kiss was pure power, blazing bright.  


“You were scared,” he whispered, “so I never let the sword wall fall.”  


To prevent the shattering of summoned swords, Vergil needed to maintain a constant focus.  


_He never slept after waking me._  


“Oh, my sweet V, sleep now.” She touched his cheek. He closed his eyes. The swords burst into shards of sizzling light. Nero did not wake.  


Vergil lifted his brows, impressed. “Heavy sleeper.”  


Miranda smiled, taking her son’s hand in hers. “He knows he’s safe.” She looked up into her husband’s eyes. “And so do I.”  


“I’ll get the tea this time.” Vergil pressed a lingering kiss to her throat.  


As he straightened, Miranda ran her fingers down his naked chest. He took her hand, squeezed it, and then strode for the kitchen.  


Nero stirred, waking with a big yawn.  


Miranda stroked his back. “Good morning, my little sweet.”  


He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. “Are you still sad, Mommy?”  


She smiled. The tears were happy this time. “I’m feeling much better now.”  


He bounced into her arms. “Good!”  


_I will never let them take you._  


She held her boy. Unbreakable. Nero tangled his fingers in her hair, humming.  


Vergil brought the tea. Once he had set it aside, Miranda grasped his hand and beckoned him back to bed. He let his coat crumple onto the carpet, and joined his family.  


“Mommy’s happy now!” Nero exclaimed.  


Vergil smiled. “You make Mommy very happy, Nero.”  


“You make Mommy happy too!”  


Vergil’s eyes grew distant, remorseful, as he gazed at his wife. “Daddy doesn’t deserve Mommy.”  


“Vergil.” Soft reprimand. She touched his cheek.  


Even now he struggled with the past. Once in a while. Tears glazed his eyes. He had learned little by little that tears were not weakness. Tears were human. To be human was to be truly alive.  


He kissed her shoulder. “I love you.”  


Miranda kissed his lips.  


Nero snuggled close to his parents. “I want pancakes, Mommy.”  


She kissed the top of his head and leaned against Vergil’s chest. “I’ll make some for you in a little while.”  


Nero beamed up at her. Absolutely sacred.  


_It was just a dream. Just a lie created in the dark._  


The sun had risen. Golden. New.

**Author's Note:**

> The disjointed, choppy style I utilized for this piece is meant to reflect the jarring sensation of being trapped in a dream and the disorientation when coming out of it, that crossing back into reality from the psychological.


End file.
